I'll be careful while I'm climbin' 'cause it hurts a lot to drop
by kris932
Summary: "Ah, Pegs." She glared at Howard and his familiar tone in front of a prisoner but he ignored her and continued. "That's what makes this all so exciting and covert. Ms. Lewis do you mind telling us what year you were born?" (aka the one where Darcy time travels and becomes Tony's mother)
1. Chapter 1

I find the whole time travel question very unsettling if you take it to its logical extension. I think it might eventually be possible, but then what happens? -William Shatner

The bottom line is that time travel is allowed by the laws of physics. -Brian Greene

~0~0~

It started with a lab accident like many of these stories do. One moment they're in the lab. Jane is running low on sleep, but so sure that her next breakthrough is in sight. No time for food, showering, or sleep. Science awaits! Darcy is with her of course, fiddling with her new StarkPlayer ™ (may her ipod R.I.P wherever it might be) and occasionally typing in data on the spreadsheet open on her computer.

The next moment BAM! CRACK! BOOM! (or something more delicate and mature, but still ominous) would resound through the lab. Then? Hell breaks loose.

And so it begins…

~0~0~

Maria Collins Carbonell was born in South Hampton, New York. A brown eyed, brunette all American bombshell. She's the only child of her late parents and has no other close family members. She's from money but not one of the big last names seen weekly in the papers and discussed on Wall Street. She wouldn't be questioned at parties of a certain caliber, nor would she really be remembered. No one to miss her or search for her. She's the perfect candidate for a newly minted secret government agency.

Margaret 'Peggy' Carter needed more than one identity after all. Maria Carbonell is a good start.

By the end of the week she'd be able to mock up all the official documents to make Miss Carbonell exist.

~0~0~

Darcy blacks out.

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Darcy wakes up.

~0~0~

S.H.I.E.L.D. had put her through their version of basic training after the events of New Mexico. It wasn't fun by any means and she still misses her IPod but she now knew how to respond against an attacker in different situations. Darcy while always fond of being dressed comfortably now made sure that she could always run in her shoes. Her Taser never left her side these days. Aliens, MIB's and Mad Scientists didn't faze her. But waking up surrounded by gun touting men that could have walked out of the pages of one of her history books was unexpected.

"Are you armed?"

"Taser, left back pocket of my jeans."

If anything that made the gun touting men more on guard than they were before.

"Ma'am, you have a what in your pocket?"

"Taser. You know… click click zap… commence painful twitching?"

One of the men, removed one of his hands from his gun and made a signal too quick for Darcy to make out. She soon realized she had much bigger problems when she felt something stick in her neck. Within seconds she lost consciousness.

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White walls, steel table, what she assumed was a two-way mirror taking up half a wall and a complete lack of her possessions and clothing was waiting for her when she woke up. Someone, and she didn't want to think too much about it, had stripped her of her clothes and put her in a hospital gown. Darcy had no idea who or what she was dealing with. But, hey at least they spoke English!

She wasn't much a fan of the handcuffs that linked her to the table though and she was probably going to be even less of a fan of the men opening the door to come question her.

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'What is it?' asked Peggy as she glared at Howard over her desk and lunch.

"I already told you… I don't know. Well, let's amend that, I have a fairly good idea what both these items are. Just that they are far beyond the average technology of our time. And this one…" he held up the small Starkphone™ with the very familiar Stark Logo embossed on the back of it, "was not made by me in any shape or fashion, as I have told you already."

"Interrogation said she called it a 'cellphone' and an 'mp3' player." Howard nodded in agreement.

"Right, so Cooper over at Motorola is working a slow angle that might in his wildest dreams look as sophisticated as this-in 30 to 50 years. But, pal, I gotta tell you my car phone is the best top of the line-custom made work around, and it's got nothing on this."

"Could you get it to work?"

"For calls? No, I'll spare you the technical details for once, Pegs. But not a chance. I can open some of the… 'apps' however."

"I see."

"I think I can fiddle with it in my lab and keep it running long enough to look through it all."

"So we'll have more information to go off of by tomorrow morning."

"Something like that, but you do know how I love to sleep in." Peggy rolled her eyes and turned back to her lunch effectively shutting down anymore comments Howard wanted to throw her way.

But he was still sitting, looking uncomfortable in her opinion, in her office. She sighed and put down her sandwich.

"It bothers you that your logo is on it."

"It's unsettling." He finally stood up, but stayed shifting from foot to foot like he wanted to say something else to her. But whatever was racing through his brain, remained locked up tight. "I'm calling it a day here in the office, gonna head to my personal lab, Peggy."

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Howard hadn't questioned the girl himself. He hadn't even seen her yet. This was definitely going to change after getting a chance to play around with the tech they had removed from her person. He had questions and needed far better answers than what the agents had managed to get out of Darcy Lewis.

Like for example: Who the fucking hell was Anthony Edward Stark. And was there a way to read more of his academic papers on this 'cellphone', because whoever the fucking hell he was, he had some fascinating ideas in the mechanical engineering field and Howard really wanted to read more.

Unfortunately there was only one paper written by the man, most of the other documents had the name Dr. Jane Foster listed as the main author. She didn't seem to know much about mechanical engineering at all. But her theories seemed so outlandish he had a feeling that based off the tone, she seemed to think she was right but had figured out that no one else was ever going to agree with her. She wrote of gods and monsters and science and technology that sounded eerily familiar to Howard from his days with the Strategic Scientific Reserve and from his nightmares where good men never made it home.


	2. Chapter 2

Much to everyone's' surprise, especially Peggy's since he never arrived before her unless he had ended up crashing there overnight, Howard Stark arrived to the S.H.E.I.L.D. headquarters bright and early the next morning. He intercepted Peggy before she made it to her office and paperwork. Instead he whisked her quickly down to interrogation where he had already gotten Suspect 498 moved into one of the small secure rooms.

Howard then proceeded to kick the rest of the staff off the floor and put it into lockdown.

"Might I ask you what exactly is going on here, Howard? Is this really necessary?" She asked a frown marring the curve of her red painted lips. "Or are you being over dramatic as usual."

Howard rolled his eyes at his friend and co-worker and tried guiding her over to a chair, but she stood firm with her arms crossed.

"Alright, fine. Be that way." He plopped down in the chair that Peggy had refused and propped his feet up on the edge of the table.

"We need to talk to this girl."

"She's been interrogated by our bes-."

Howard cut in before she could finish her sentence "I don't think this needs to be common knowledge at all. In fact I think we should keep any and all info on." Here he grabbed the file on Suspect 498 that had been laying on the table and flipped it open. "Darcy Lewis, to ourselves."

"Why?"

"Let's just talk with the girl ourselves, Pegs."

"What are you not telling me?"

"If I'm already not telling you something, did you think asking me that question would really help? C'mon, let's go, time's money, Darlin'."

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The last 24 hours (give or take) since she honestly couldn't tell how long she had been out of it before being questioned the day before, had not been pleasant to say the least. She had been caught in a lab accident of questionable origin, she'd been shot with a sedative, questioned repeatedly by what she assumed were more MIB's but of the non-Coulson variety, and then once again had her music stolen from her. Un-fucking-believable. Now she was back in the same interrogation room as the last time and she had watched way too many spy flicks on Netflix to think that this was going to end well for her.

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"Ms. Lewis, my name is Agent Carter and this is Mr. Stark." Peggy said as she and Howard took seats across from their prisoner.

Said prisoner, who had the day before been overly talkative and rather brash with the agents now sat gaping at the two of them. When it became clear to Peggy that Ms. Lewis was not about to say anything she began again.

"As I stated I am-" No one was going to let her complete a thought today it seemed.

"Peggy Carter, oh wow. The Peggy Carter…and Howard Stark. I am so entirely fucked right now."

Ms. Lewis' outburst took a second to register in Peggy's brain as Howard choked down a laugh next to her. But unlike him, she did not find the situation amusing in the slightest.

"How did you know my name?" Howard's name made sense, newspapers and newsreels showcased him often enough. But her name was rarely matched to her face that quickly. Even back when that god-awful Captain America radio show was on daily.

"I think I can guess." Said Howard.

Ms. Lewis still looked gobsmacked in general, but the look she turned on Howard was considering and intelligent.

"I guess the people that took all my personal stuff handed them off to you then?" she asked.

"Something along those lines, Ms. Maybe we can start this over, I'm Howard Stark, owner of Stark Industries, and director of a new program called S.H.I.E.L.D." he paused to smirk at the younger woman. "But then I have a feeling this is not new information for you…" he trailed off.

"Yes and no."

"Of course, that would be much too easy."

Ms. Lewis laughed, sounding a little desperate in the process.

"Are you a physicist? An engineer? Both?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed a little bit lighter this time.

"You were able to open some of my apps weren't you? You didn't delete any of my music by accident, right? Wait, how did you keep it charged? Never mind, you could tell me but it'd go over my head." She jerked her hands and looked surprised to see them still handcuffed to the table. It seemed as if the woman had forgotten she was chained up in the first place.

"Anyway, so not a physicist but my boss is an astrophysicist."

"That would be Dr. Jane Foster, I assume?"

Normally Agent Carter would never interrupt an interrogation where the person being interrogated was actually giving useful information. But since both Howard and Ms. Lewis seemed to have forgotten she was present and not a single one of their statements made any sense to her she broke her own rule and interrupted their conversation.

"Who is Dr. Jane Foster?"

Both Howard and Darcy turned towards her and her first assessment that they might have (despite the circumstances) forgotten she was still sitting there appeared correct.

"My boss/BFF. She's recently made one of history's biggest breakthroughs in her field."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. monitors all new scientific achievements, why have I never heard of Dr. Foster?"

"Ah, Pegs." She glared at Howard and his familiar tone in front of a prisoner but he ignored her and continued. "That's what makes this all so exciting and covert. Ms. Lewis do you mind telling us what year you were born?"

"I do mind, but I figure you aren't going to be letting me go anytime soon sooo…not that I have any place to go at this point…. 1991."

"What?" Peggy asked less than intelligently.

"Ms. Darcy Lewis here, is from the future."

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The interrogation had only gone downhill from there. Howard had asked quite a few questions about Dr. Foster's work. A few questions about S.H.I.E.L.D. itself (apparently, Ms. Lewis wasn't an Agent in the future, but she apparently had a contact with the agency, whose correspondence Howard had been able to read part of) had also been asked. After that the questions and answers had progressively become more technical and Peggy had been left in the dust as the two discussed the technology they had originally removed from Ms. Lewis' person.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Howard (who had seemed to forget how to knock) barreling into her office carrying a mass of written math equations.

"So, in light of everything Peggy, I think our best bet is to set Ms. Lewis up with a new identity and give her a job here."

"You must be joking."

"I'm really not."


	3. Chapter 3

"So you're just going to trust this woman based off a few articles and one conversation?" Peggy asked. The feeling that she was missing something major still leaving her unsettled.

"What makes you think I trust her?"

Peggy resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Ms. Lewis (while dressed oddly, how futuristic) was rather attractive and it would probably not be the last time Howard made a less than intelligent move when there was a pair of shapely legs (among other things) involved.

"We can't leave her locked up and we can't let her go. She's not wanted for any crime. So we keep an eye on her instead. If she turns out to be above board then we have another female agent that by all appearances can at the very least handle stressful situations. Worst comes to worst, we catch her stealing state secrets and we shoot her. After finding out who she works for first. Or the moral equivalent of what I just said."

"Very well, but starting a new identity from square one takes time." She was mentally running a check list of the many favors she was going to have to call in to get this done in a few weeks' time.

"Just alter the Carbonell one. In all honesty when are you going to have the time to get that much field work in any way?" ordered Howard. "The specs for that identity almost match Ms. Lewis. Eye color and height are easy enough to change, and we've got all the supporting documents required prepped. This needs to be kept quiet. That means she assumes the identity ASAP, we get her assimilated into this time period, and the intel that she might not be from our time is buried along with her original identity."

"What if she balks at this idea?"

"What else and where else could she go if she's telling us the truth?" and that seemed to be the end of that discussion. Howard was already halfway out the door with his papers before Peggy had the ability to answer back. "See if we can get this wrapped up today, Peggy. If anyone asks too many questions about her in the meantime just call it a training exercise and move forward from there."

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"Ms. Lewis." She greeted the younger woman a little more curtly than she would have liked to, but the day was long and only going to get worse at this point.

"Agent Carter." Ms. Lewis replied from where she was standing by the small barred window of her room.

"If you would follow me please, we have reached some final decisions concerning your situation."

"Do I get a say in these 'decisions'."

Peggy just shot her a look and the girl rolled her ideas in return.

"Of course I don't. Very well. I'll keep calm and carry on and all that jazz and stuff."

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"No."

"Ms. Lewis we are being very generous with this offer."

"No."

"You don't understand."

"No you don't understand…" this was new. Ms. Lewis had been under S.H.I.E.L.D. custody for almost four days now and Peggy had yet to see her really rattled by anything until now.

"It is imperative that we get you an identity quickly and find a way to introduce you to the general public as a real person in this time and place."

"Yes, yes, I get that. I'm not a fucking idiot." Apparently women swore like soldiers in the future, but honestly Peggy was finding it a little refreshing at times. "But not this one. Find me a different identity. Literally let me be anyone else."

"We don't have the time to create a different identity for you. This one already was such a close match that it makes it very easy for us to tweak it for you." Replied Peggy taking a seat across from Ms. Lewis.

"I understand that, I really do understand the amount of bureaucratic crap you have to wade through to make this work in the first place. But I can't be this person. I really can't." Ms. Lewis was looking more and more distressed by the second, but she wasn't giving Peggy information to work with.

"I'm going to need an extremely convincing reason to give you a different identity. Howard Stark's not the easiest man to dissuade once he's given an order."

"Well who the hell was this identity created for in the first place, let's just give it back to that girl and start over."

"It was supposed to be mine, but realistically I was never really going to use it much."

Ms. Lewis blinked and then sat back in her own chair and silently assessed Peggy for a few moments.

"Please please tell me that Maria Collins Carbonell is a very popular name in this day and age."

Peggy offered a weak "It's not uncommon" in an effort to move things forward. The woman formally known as Darcy Lewis just gave her a look like she knew she was being humored.

"I have just one favor to ask."

"I cannot promise you anything until I hear what this favor is…"

"Can we avoid telling Mr. Stark I was unhappy with this identity choice? And maybe just keep him far far away from me?"

Peggy laughed at this before agreeing.

"That shouldn't be that difficult, he's rarely around. Mostly off running his company, among other things..."

"Uh huh." The new Ms. Carbonell looked highly skeptical at her response. "If you say so."

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She took to some of her immersion classes much quicker than others. Ms. Carbonell seemed to find the classes on current vernacular most amusing. Music she was completely on top of within hours and seemed to find a perverse joy in singing loudly at some of the more stoic agents. Unlike many of the agents recruited from the New York City area, the girl knew how to drive a car. She could type quickly even though she had to be taught from scratch on how to use a type writer. It was something that baffled her teachers to no end.

Clothing had to be the biggest challenge. Carbonell balked at dresses on a day to day basis and generally bitched like hell when she had no other choice. Liked jeans, slacks, and layers and generally nothing that would help her fit in with what her identity claimed she was. Fashion sense was a gene that the girl apparently did not possess. If her clothes hadn't been carefully selected and provided for her, there was every chance that Carbonell would have happily ran around the office dressed like a male factory worker.

Peggy, though she hated to admit, often agreed with Carbonell when it came to the clothing. Pants were really much more practical in ninety percent of situations.

Carbonell was also quite educated. She spoke Spanish, knew some Latin, and could recognize Italian, French, Japanese, Chinese and Russian instantly.

She could shoot a gun, but kept asking for the weapon they had taken from her the first day. S.H.I.E.L.D. refused.


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy would never claim that she was enjoying herself or even really adapting to the whole situation. She was well aware that she was currently being sheltered in a mini-S.H.I.E.L.D. bubble protecting her from real life in the 60's. She was a bit shocked about the time travel thing. But she was dealing with it. And by dealing with it she meant she was trying her best to ignore the big picture and spent a lot of time complaining about the clothes she was forced to wear. So, not dealing.

She wondered what Jane was doing. A lot. After all the woman had attempted to rip apart time and space for a space-hottie she had known for like, 3 days, so Darcy was fairly confident that as Jane's science minion/BFF/official playlist maker of the last few years, Jane was out there in the future sciencing her best to get Darcy back. She hoped. Like really hoped. Occasionally begged, pleaded, and prayed.

She wrote notes. Lots of notes. Song lyrics, lines from books and movies, internet memes, and names of people she knew.

Sometimes she kept them.

Sometimes she had to destroy them right after.

Sometimes she forgot things. How things looked, tasted, and sounded.

Dates of important events (both personal and worldwide). She had never fucking missed Google and internet more than now. That week Future! S.H.I.E.L.D had blocked out all their communications after New Mexico had nothing on this. It was culture shock like nothing else.

Then there was the elephant in the room she really really really did not want to confront.

Maria Collins Carbonell.

Some of her history texts had put Carbonell right up there with Jacqueline Kennedy when it came to famous women of this time period.

Except, it was Maria Stark that was making the waves. Scandalous waves. Waves that would shape the future in ways that Darcy did not want to think about.

So, naturally, anytime she had a second to herself outside of training and being oh-so-subtly being question further by Agent Carter, it's what she thought about. A lot.

She also occasionally thought about Howard Stark.

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"So are you ever going to trust me enough to let me loose on New York City, or even the state of New Jersey? At this point I'm not very choosey. Hell, I'd be down for a short drive to the gas station down the road." Asked Darcy over one of her 'lunches' with Peggy Carter.

She still wasn't sure what Peggy Carter thought of her. The Brit had been rightfully suspicious of Darcy from the start, but she had also been the friendliest and most helpful person in the S.H.I.E.L.D. base that Darcy interacted with. It probably helped that Darcy was now one of the few women she had seen working around the base. Chalk it up to female solidarity or something.

"It's just that I'm going a little insane here. Like is this going to be what the rest of my life is like? Wandering non-descript secret government halls and annoying the hell out of your jackbooted thugs?"

Peggy twisted her lips into what could have been a sympathetic smile.

Darcy continued before Peggy could respond. "Can't I get a temp job or go work for an office or something? I was able to use the typewriter last week without messing things up that badly."

"It's not my call, unfortunately, Maria. You are to continue here at S.H.I.E.L.D. until Mr. Stark returns from his trip." Peggy might be one of a handful of people that knew her real name, but she never ever failed to call her Maria or Ms. Carbonell. Darcy didn't like it.

"Howard Stark is calling the shots on what my future holds?"

"That would be correct on some parts. He's the one that decided to get you an identity and to try and assimilate you into the time as much as possible. He also tends to 'call the shots' on most actions around these parts."

Darcy took a second to process this information and then decided she may as well go for broke at this point.

"If that's so, where's he been for the last few months then?"

"That's classified, excuse me, I have a phone call to make soon."

Well, that was an obvious shut down.

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Darcy is flopped down on her bed in her small room reading Ian Fleming's Casino Royale in a desperate attempt to keep her mind occupied. Despite finding it a bit different, less campy at times, from every James Bond movie she'd ever seen it had managed to grab her attention. Luckily for her there was a number of them already written that she'd be able to get her hands on after she finished this one.

So when someone ended up knocking on her door with quick, impatient hits, she was less than pleased with the interruption. But whoever it was, was insistent and she had to put her book down.

"What exactly do you want?" she snapped as she pulled the door open.

Howard Stark raised an eyebrow at her tone and smirked.

"Interrupting something, am I?" he asked as he looked over her shoulder, as if something scandalous was going to miraculously appear in the small room. When nothing did, he turned his gaze back to her.

"Just spending some quality time with Mr. James Bond. Um, so, can I help you?" she asked not moving from where she blocked access to her room. She had not been prepared for Howard Stark to wind up at her door.

"Which one?"

"Huh?"

"Which book are you on?" Howard asked, like he wasn't just banging on her door like the world was going to end.

"Casino Royale, and if you spoil any of the book for me, I will not be responsible for my actions."

He laughed and nodded, like this was a completely acceptable response.

"I met him once during the war."

"What? Huh?"

"Fleming, the author? I met him once when I was in London with the SSR during the war. Anyway, you hungry? I'm hungry. Dinner, I'll buy. Peggy mentioned you were getting a little cabin feverish." When Darcy just stood there staring at him, he rolled his eyes impatiently. But Darcy was a little stuck on how similar he sounded to Tony Stark back in her time. She had seen enough interviews once the man had become Iron Man to remember how he talked. The accent was thicker and different, but still.

When Howard realized she wasn't going to respond he reached out a hand and lightly clasped Darcy's shoulder.

"Let's go Maria. I got some questions for you anyway." He gave her a small smile, perfect mustache twitching in humor, as she pulled herself back into the present situation.

"Right, I'll just.., go change then." And promptly slammed the door in Howard's face.


	5. Chapter 5

In a time not so long ago but far far in the future, Darcy would have worn jeans and sweaters and homemade hats and would have been so very comfortable in every way possible. Now confined in a dress, stockings, and less than sensible shoes (oh how she missed flip-flops, sneakers used at all times, and mismatched socks) and Howard Stark looking at her like she was a complicated math equation, she wasn't even remotely comfortable. Her purse held a pair of gloves, for fucks' sake.

She finally gave up on being comfortable and opened the door to the hallway. Darcy was slightly amused to see that Howard had stuck around through her annoyed clothing change. He was leaning against the wall reading a thin file of papers. He must have had them stashed in his jacket.

However uncomfortable she felt in the clothes didn't seem to matter to Howard since his assessing full body scan seemed to indicate she'd passed whatever standards he possessed.

"Dinner? Ready?" he asked as he folded the papers back into his suit jacket.

"Yeah, thanks. So, sorry about slamming the door in your face."

"Not the worst thing a woman has ever done to me." He said as he moved to stand beside her.

"I know, I've read your biography."

Howard blinked at her. "My biography?"

"Um, yeah. So dinner. I hear you're buying. Which is great since, ya know, I'm not officially employed yet."

Howard raised an eyebrow Darcy forced herself to shut up.

She locked up her room and allowed Howard to motion her forward. They made their way in silence to a door-an exit- that she hadn't seen yet. He unlocked the door with a keypad that would not have looked out of place in a modern action movie, minus facial and retina scans.

"After you…" he opened the door for her and waited for Darcy to move forward before he relocked the door after them.

"That your car?" she asked staring out at the Cadillac Eldorado that was parked.

"Yes."

"Any chance you'll let me drive?"

"Doubtful, I haven't started drinking yet today. Ask me again after dinner."

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Dinner did indeed start with booze. Expensive scotch for Howard and an Italian sounding wine for her that Darcy could neither pronounce nor afford. It was far better than the 3 dollar bottles or 7 dollar boxes she used to pick up at Walmart.

Howard, being the genius that he was, waited until Darcy was well into her third glass of wine and first dinner serving before breaking out the questions.

"So, Maria, I was wondering if you could tell me more about this 'Tony Stark'? His paper was fascinating." Howard asked as if the topic was as light and boring as the weather.

Darcy glared at him over the top of her wine glass before focusing her attention to the shrimp scampi in front of her.

"What is your scientific approach to time-travel?" she asked while seeming very interested in her food.

Howard gave a small laugh and to Darcy's complete shock started to recite with a smirk "There was a young lady named Bright, Whose speed was far faster than light; She started one day In a relative way, And returned on the previous night. A. H. Reginald Buller at his finest." He might have continued on but they were interrupted by the waiter bearing the next round of food.

Once the waiter left and first bites were savored by Darcy she jumped right back into the discussion.

"What was that?"

"You don't have limericks in the future?" Howard asked innocently.

"There once was a man from Nantucket, Who kept all his cash in a bucket. But his daughter, named Nan, Ran away with a man, And as for the bucket, Nantucket."

"That one is even older than my example, darling. Try again."

"I would but I don't think the rest of the ones I remember are fit for respectable company."

"I'm respectable company?" he leaned over the table to get a bit closer to Darcy, "I'm positive no woman has ever called me respectable before."

"Trust me I wasn't, I meant the wait staff. Anyway, back to my original question."

Howard moved back to his side of the table before responding.

"It's not really my field of study. Einstein has written some excellent articles on the subject."

"But you seem to believe I am telling the truth."

"I've seen crazier things…not many, but still. Science is always finding new discoveries. And it helps that my company logo is on some of your personal belongings and I sure as hell didn't sell them though my company."

"Tony Stark is a former CEO of your company. My boss and him have exchanged ideas about research. Never met the man, can only tell you what everyone else in my time could tell you about him."

"Well then maybe you can clarify why his last name is Stark?"

"Because he's your son?"

"Damn, Jarvis was right. I do hate when that happens."

Darcy blinked and looked confused. "I'm sorry? Who, what? Huh?"

"My butler, Edwin Jarvis. He keeps telling me I'm going to knock some random woman up one day, except he says it all disapproving and in a British accent women seem to adore. I do hate when his well-meant warnings come true. He becomes insufferable, Maria. Trust me. Plus, I think he and Peggy have money riding on this very topic. I wonder what the odds are currently at."

Howard looked so dejected- either at the thought of his butler giving him a stern lecture or the idea of having to deal with an illegitimate son- that Darcy couldn't help laughing in his face.

"Does it help that I think you're married when you have Tony?" if anything that statement made things worse.

"I get married? To who?"

"Honestly, can't remember the name, I'm sure she just became dusty footnotes I skipped over in history class."

"You're lying. Have another glass of wine until you start being honest again."


	6. Chapter 6

"Okay, try this on for size, Tall, Dark and Handsome. I won't be born for almost seven hundred years. How's that strike you?"

― Lisa Tawn Bergren

"This is what I say: I've got good news and bad news.

The good news is, you don't have to worry, you can't change the past.

The bad news is, you don't have to worry, no matter how hard you try, you can't change the past.

The universe just doesn't put up with that. We aren't important enough. No one is. Even in our own lives. We're not strong enough, willful enough, skilled enough in chronodiegetic manipulation to be able to just accidentally change the entire course of anything, even ourselves."

― Charles Yu, How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe

Much to Howard's disappointment Darcy had nursed that last glass of wine until the end of dinner. There would be no more deep dark insights into Howard Stark's future over this meal. The last thing she wanted to do was give him a full history lesson of how she thought history was supposed to progress forward at this point.

Things weren't looking so great for her, nothing from Jane, and more involvement with Howard did not make for pleasant thoughts. Months and months had passed…and some days she was barely keeping her sanity together.

It did not help that Howard was delightful company during dinner when she wasn't preoccupied by panicking over her role as 'Maria'.

Instead she focused on the fact that since he played a significant role in S.H.I.E.L.D. he might have some say if she could get a fucking job or not. They were training her-yes. But she wasn't actually allowed to do anything and she was at the end of her rope. Howard had seemed to understand this frustration if his less than complimentary mutterings about the Manhattan Project were any indication. So at least there was a small chance there that she might be allowed to do something with her endless days and boredom.

Really, at this point she'd be happy to answer dummy phones and stamp letters. Something to take up some of her time.

And on top of all that, he refused to let her drive the car back to S.H.I.E.L.D.

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"No. No. No. Absolutely not."

Peggy stood hand on one hip, exasperated at the protesting woman in front of her. She was in agreement with Maria, she had protested the idea also. For different reasons of course, but her protests had been ignored. It didn't help that Howard had taken Carbonell to dinner and then failed to give Peggy any information about what they talked about.

"Howard seemed to think this was a good idea."

Maria's face had turned an interesting shade of white at that statement. She also backed up and started to lean against the wall as if to steady herself.

"Look, Agent Carter, I know you still don't trust me. Can't blame you for that. How about we do this. I have an identity now, basic skills, and you MIB types have the ability to ship me off to some other city or shitty small town. Let me get a normal job and never talk to any of you guys again. Best case scenario, my Boss is halfway done figuring out how to get me back to my time and bitching about modern day MIB's stifling her publications. Worst case, I'm stuck here but you don't have to worry about me spying on your organization."

Maria made a very convincing argument, one that Peggy thought should actually happen, but it wasn't her call.

"Or you could accompany Mr. Stark to this dinner he has to attend."

"Why? Doesn't he have like a harem of easy women on rotation for situations like this?"

And then there were times that Peggy really liked this woman and wished she could trust her completely. It would be nice to have another female co-worker around. Especially one that hadn't slept with Howard yet and didn't seem to think that that was a viable option for the future. She liked the snarkiness and sarcasm. It was times like these she really missed living with Angie.

"He certainly used too. He's been a lot less…well he's a little more tolerable the last year or so… My point Agent Carbonell is that this is non-negotiable. We are currently investigating a number of people that may be attending this social event."

"What are we investigating?"

Carbonell rolled her eyes before Peggy got a chance to reply.

"Let me guess, that's classified?"

Peggy really hoped this woman turned out to be above board on things, because she'd be hell of fun on poker nights with Angie.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Howard will ignore my advice and give you more information when the time comes. He seems strangely fond of you."

"Oh, god. Don't say shit like that." She was still looking unnervingly pale, from where Peggy was standing.

"Did something happen over dinner that I should know about Agent Carbonell? You are not looking well at all." Horror wasn't the common response to spending time with Howard. Anger, bitter disappointment, and self-loathing, yes if you had made the mistake of sleeping with the man. But this was new.

"I'm just homesick, I think. I should go…and be useless elsewhere. I'm about to start a new James Bond novel…sooo… Um, ok, bye." Carbonell just about bolted out of the room as fast as possible.

~0~0~

The first thing Dr. Jane Foster did when she realized her friend and assistant had disappeared had been to grab a permanent marker (black despite the multi-colored pack Darcy just had to have) and a big sheet of cardboard ripped off a packing box.

Crude yes.

Effective?

Well it was better than some other options.

Her sign read in big dark letters: THOR. DARCY MISSING. COME BACK. THANKS, HEIMDALL.

She really needed to find a better way to communicate. Posting a sign outside her lab for Heimdall to see and then report to Thor was not the best form of communication in the galaxy. She also really wished Thor's allspeak worked a little bit better with written languages so she could give a little bit more detail than 'Darcy missing'. But to be fair, outside of a handful of scientists most people wouldn't be able to even slightly comprehend the few theories she had racing through her brain.

The next thing she did was start writing down every single thing she could remember about the moment Darcy disappeared in front of her. No detail could be missed. All the data was needed for fixing the problem. The only problem with that? She had no idea what had happened.

But she did know this. Darcy was missing and Jane had to find a way to get her back.


	7. Chapter 7

"No no no no no."

"This is starting to become a theme with you isn't it Agent Carbonell? You might want to avoid that when Howard arrives, he'll start butchering Shakespeare in an attempt to be humorous."

Darcy glared at Agent Carter and the long fancy dress bag she had draped over one arm.

"Well may be if you didn't keep giving me bad news then I wouldn't have to protest as much. Huh, ever thought about that?"

"Am I going to have to handcuff you to that chair as they do your hair and make-up?" the British woman asked smirking a little.

"Is there a third option?" fired back Darcy, but she still took a seat in front of the ornate vanity table. "That doesn't involve me going to a party full of 60's celebrities as Stark's obscenely young date? You originally just billed this whole situation to me as 'dinner' and 'investigating'."

They were in New York City, in a rather fancy town house. Apparently, from what she had surmised based off the comments of Peggy and the two women Peggy had hired to do her hair and makeup, Mr. Stark had given? lent? this house to Peggy years ago. If this was one of his 'small' 'spare' residencies, Darcy hated that she was excited to see what his real house looked like. She also wanted to avoid ever seeing his home. She didn't have much time to ponder the question though, since the two ladies that Peggy had introduced as Mary and Linda were already poking and prodding at her face and hair.

"Why is that dress white?" she asked when she was finally able to get a glimpse in the mirror as Peggy could be seen in the background removing it from the bag. "White is not a good color for me."

It might not have been a good color for her but it was pretty. A strapless shimmery white floor length gown was carefully placed over a chair. There was a almost mess like covering in black and white that appeared to drape over it. So at least it wasn't completely white in the end.

"Unfortunately, you, nor us had a choice in the matter. The invite Howard received stated strictly black and white. It should be a most classy affair."

"Oh joy, well you have clearly picked the right girl for the job. We all know I just ooze class."

Peggy was laughing in the background as Darcy heard her rummaging around in another bag.

"Well I'm sure this will help with that…" Peggy finished as moved closer to hand the hair dresser a small black and white mask glinting with crystals.

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"What the hell is this?" Darcy muttered into Howard's ear as she pressed in closer to his side as he helped her out of the back of the limo. Lights, cameras, and shining shimmery rich people surrounded them. She was suddenly very thankful for the custom made dress Peggy had supplied for her and the expensive jewelry that Howard had given to her to wear during the drive over. She had a feeling she was wearing more than what her college degree had cost her in clothing and jewels. It was a disturbing thought. The stunning handmade filigree mask covering her eyes and brow were surprisingly comfortable, her shoes less so. Howard helping her up and offering his arm was a welcome relief.

"Might want to read the paper more often, darling." He whispered back. "It's being heralded as the 'party of the century' already. Now smile for the cameras." He ordered as flashes went off around them.

The street was well lit and the side walk leading up to iconic Plaza Hotel was sectioned off and covered to protect the arrivals from the misty rain that fell. Police officers could be seen keeping crowds of loud gawkers well away from the area. People were calling out names of actors and actresses and singers that Darcy recognized by name but were mostly way before her time.

Howard, much as Peggy had predicted, had been more than willing to give Darcy a bit more information on the ride over to the Hotel. Truman Capote was throwing this massive party in honor of someone whose name Darcy promptly forgot. In an effort to impress and simultaneously piss a lot of people off for no reason other than it was a Monday and he could, the author had invited the most random assortment of celebrities, politicians, random small town doctors, and lots of young pretty women for a masquerade party.

Howard was really killing two birds with one stone with this party. A number of guests were rumored to have questionable ties to things S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to monitor and Howard got to rub elbows with rich young starlets and business men. Apparently, Howard had been growing more and more distant from these sorts of events over the last few years and people were starting to talk.

It sounded like the party list had been so selective that Darcy wasn't even sure she was going to be allowed in the door, even if she was hanging off the arm of the infamous Howard Stark.

But security checked them over, quicker than many of the other arrivals it seemed, Darcy had a sneaking suspicion that some of the guards might also work for Stark in some capacity since she thought she had glimpsed a hand gun under his jacket back in the limo. But they gave the both of them the a-ok to move further into the Hotel and Darcy didn't question it where they could hear.

Now it was Howard's turn to lean closer and talk quietly into her ear.

"Have you read 'In Cold Blood' by any chance, Maria?"

"Heard of it, fell asleep during the movie Capote, so not my idea of entertainment."

"Movie? Never mind, doesn't sound very interesting. Ah, good. Me neither, we'll wing it if anyone asks." Darcy looked over at Howard who smiled back at her like they were sharing some great secret. She guessed in a way they were.

He had put on a mask too before leaving the limo, but he clearly did not find it as comfortable as she found hers since he kept using his free hand to fiddle with it.

"So what? We'll just claim to have loved it, and been so speechless that we couldn't possibly give more insight into the book than that…"

"Brilliant plan. Works for me. Unless you can talk intelligently about his other works?"

"I couldn't name any of his other books if you held a gun to my head and threatened to shoot."

"Speechless pandering to the masses it is." That earned Howard a small laugh and Darcy could feel the tension in her shoulders ease ever so slightly.

"What about Frank Sinatra?"

"What about him?" asked Darcy as Howard steered her forward, nodding occasionally to people he knew as they went.

"Seen any of his movies?"

"Ocean's 11? Is that out yet?"

Howard smiled at her. He seemed to smile at more at her than he smiled at the few other people she had seen in interact with since she first was questioned by him. She had a feeling it wasn't a normal expression for him.

"Not a half-bad movie. You lucked out, Maria. That movie is actually a few years old now. And I know you have to have heard some of his songs on the radio the way you are obsessed with music. Anyway, he's tolerable company at times and I know he's supposed to be attending."

"Do you mind if we get ourselves a few of those glasses of champagne before throwing me to the wolves?" asked Darcy as she looked around at the lavishly decorated party.

"Your plans keep getting better and better tonight, Maria."


	8. Chapter 8

"My body is detoxing after years of one night stands. They don't make gum or a patch for this Ted, but hey, billion dollar idea alert."- Barney Stinson

"Call me old fashioned but I need to have sex with a girl at least three times before I'll even consider having dinner with her."- Barney Stinson

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Darcy awoke to a pounding head, a soft pillow, rolling stomach, and thankfully last night's fancy dress still firmly on her body. After a few minutes of burrowing her head in the pillow in an effort to avoid the sun coming in the windows and life in general, she forced herself to sit up. Then decided that that was a really shitty decision and burrowed back down into the covers. They were really comfortable. Unfortunately they weren't her covers and she realized she didn't know where the fuck she was.

She dragged herself to the bathroom that was connected to the room. Spent who knows how long standing under the shower in an effort to feel human again (it sort of worked). When she gave up on the shower grabbed one of the large comfy towels folded by the tub and wrapped herself up in it.

It was a nice bathroom. Beyond nice, snazzy, and expensive looking. Now that she was able to focus a little better and remember bits and pieces of the night before, she had a sinking feeling she knew exactly whose house she was in.

The table beside the bed had a stack of folded clothes on it she must have missed when she first woke up. She was not about to bash clean clothes. Not at all.

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On any other day, when she wasn't extremely hung over and craving fried hash browns and any other forms of fried potatoes that existed in the world, she might have been more in awe of the house. But potatoes could be fried many different ways and her head was still pounding.

Instead she just really wanted complete silence and greasy fried potatoes with ketchup. The only hangover cure she ever loved.

And why did this house have so many fucking stairs?

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The shoes were impeccably polished. She could see herself distorted in them from where she was slumped against the stairs and banister. Shiny.

"Miss? Might I have a word?" asked the shiny shoes.

"Uh huh." She flopped her hand in the shoes direction and closed her eyes.

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to stand up first?" questioned the shoes. They sounded annoyed. And British.

Darcy pulled herself upright using the banister. Now she could see that the shiny shoes belonged to a very well dressed man. Suit, tie, jacket, the whole nine yards.

"Are you alright Miss...?"

"Lew-Carbonell." She caught herself in time.

"LewCarbonell?" The man asked sounding very skeptical.

"Sorry, Maria Carbonell. I just, you know." She waved a hand in his general direction again in clarification.

"Right. Miss Carbonell." Once he got her name correct he gave a small sigh and seemed to tense up. "Well I believe I must be the bearer of some bad news, Miss Carbonell. Mr. Stark had to leave quite suddenly this morning for a meeting with his board of directors."

Darcy just stared at him barely registering what he was saying. Well at least she had her first thought confirmed. This was Howard's house.

Shiny shoes, snazzy clothes was still talking though. She should probably focus.

"Mr. Stark would like you to know, and I unfortunately quote him here 'that it's you, not him. He's just very busy at work right now and you do not seem to hold his attention.' I'm sure you're a lovely young woman of not questionable morals at all, and in saying that, Mr. Stark would like you to have this bracelet as a reminder of your night together." He held up a long thin box and opened it to show Darcy a diamond tennis bracelet.

He sighed again.

"Unfortunately I was not informed in advance and I did not get a chance to have your initials engraved on the clasp." Now the man was sounding resigned and sarcastic all at once. Darcy was impressed. And confused.

He held the box out to her. She took it and snapped it close. He made what could only be described as a hasty yet dignified retreat away from her.

They looked at each other.

Shiny shoes (oh boy did she need a better name, British dude was like the only other thing coming to mind) started talking again when she made no other reaction.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to escort you off the premises. Mr. Stark will of course cover your cab fare."

Darcy blinked and tried to wrap her mind around what she just heard. It took her a moment. He thought-her-Howard-oh hell no.

"Wait. What the hell!?" she snapped and then stopped. Her own loud voice making her head hurt.

"As I stated Mr. Stark…" The man began again now looking like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

"Mr. Stark should probably take this one from here. Sorry, Jarvis." Howard broke in as he clapped a hand on the man's (Jarvis?) shoulder. Effectively moving himself between a now pissed off and hungover Darcy and what must be his butler.

He was dressed more casually than Darcy had ever seen him dressed, and those had to be oil stains on his shirt.

"Maria this is Edwin Jarvis, I've told you about him before." Edwin Jarvis looked mildly surprised at that statement. "Jarvis, Maria. She's a friend from work."

"You wanna tell me what the hell is going on here Howard?" Darcy asked this time keeping her voice nice and low.

"Is no an acceptable answer?" She glared. "Right, food first? You hungry? How's lunch sound, darling?"

"There better be fried potatoes."

The two men blinked at her. Howard after a second, laughed and moved to escort her off the banister.

"I think we can manage to make you some fired potatoes."

"With salt."

"You make difficult demands, but I think I can swing that."

"I assume out of the three of us, I'll be the one cooking, sir?" asked Jarvis.

Howard turned and smirked at Darcy. "He sounds disapproving. Didn't I tell you he always sounds disapproving when I'm around?"

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Darcy was feeling slightly better after her first plate of homemade hash browns and a tall glass of water. She could use an Advil or two, but apparently those weren't invented yet. Or something. Jarvis and Howard had given her very odd looks when she had asked. Damn the 60's. She just wanted Advil, Netflix, her iPod, and Jane yelling about science in the other room.

She was forcing herself to think about the fact that she might never have three of those things ever again. And possibly Advil, she had never even fucking thought about a lot of everyday items that might not exist yet. When was Advil even invented?

"Is there anything else I can do to be of service, Miss? Sir?"

Jarvis.

Edwin Jarvis, the butler that was apparently placing bets with Peggy on when Howard was going to knock some girl up.

Edwin Jarvis, the butler, that apparently had 'kick last night's one night stand' out as a regular duty. Seriously, he had a speech, it was memorized and Jarvis had sounded like this was a common occurrence. And not a very pleasant one based on the expressions on his face when he had been giving it to her.

"You don't work for me, so in all honestly I can't tell you to do shit. But I'm about to lay into your boss here for reasons and you look like someone who would appreciate that."

Jarvis looked slightly unsettled at her blunt and slightly off color statement. But as he glanced between her and Howard (who was finishing up his own plate of hash browns) he gave a small grin in her direction and pulled out one of the other kitchen chairs.

"Do continue, Ms. Carbonell, don't hold back on my account."

"Do I get a say in this?" asked Howard.

"No." said Darcy.

"You do realize you work for me, right?"

"In what capacity, sir?" interrupted Jarvis. Darcy smirked at him and Howard sighed. "I'm just trying to see the complete picture here, sir."

"S.H.I.E.L.D." Howard muttered through his hands he now had up covering his face.

"No. What I realize is that there is a lot of things I clearly cannot discuss here now with you for reasons. Fine, I have a feeling you aren't going to drop any of those topics anytime soon. Fine. Whatever. But what the hell was that deal this morning? Do you always have your butler…" she got side tracked by said butler. "by the way, now that you aren't, like trying to kick me out…you seem really cool. It might be the accent. It might be the fact that you seem to be enjoying me yelling at Howard."

Jarvis coughed slightly which sound suspiciously like a small laugh.

"Bribe women with jewelry and have them escorted off the property?" she finally finished turning back to Howard.

"Maria, I…"

"You know what. This is actually none of my damn business. Here's your bracelet back. Can I get a ride back to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Of course Ms. Carbonell. If you would be so kind as to follow me?"

Darcy didn't look back to see Howard staring at her like she was a difficult piece of machinery in his workshop he couldn't figure out how to fucking fix.

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"Ms. Carbonell?"

Darcy paused as she was about to step out of the car.

"I don't know who or what you are to Mr. Stark…but are the first woman I've seen him treat as an equal in a long time."

"That's not really saying much at all is it?"

"At times I feel as if Mr. Stark doesn't believe he has equals."

Darcy rolled her eyes, but with her back to Jarvis he couldn't see it. But he seemed to sense her response anyway.

"Mr. Stark is not a good man. But he's not a bad one either."

Darcy turned and gave Jarvis a watery smile before mumbling 'thanks' and ditching the car as fast as possible.

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Ever since Jane and New Mexico, Darcy had grown to love sitting on rooftops and staring up at the stars. Thankfully, S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of rooftop space. And the lights on the base and surrounding area were dim enough at night that she could see the stars.

It was here, muffled slightly by the music from the portable radio she had carried up, that Howard found her crying late that night.

"Darcy?"

Hearing her name, her real name did nothing to stop her crying as Howard took a seat next to her bundle of blankets.

The music continued in the background.

"You are one of the last people I want to see right now." She sniffed as she used her sleeve to wipe her eyes.

"I can leave."

"Stay, just…stay."

Howard nodded but didn't turn to look at her. Instead he stared out over the rooftop at the trees and the stars.

It startled her when after a few minutes of silence between them, Howard asked her a question.

"Can you name all the constellations?"

"Yeah, my dad taught me as a kid, I knew them long before I met Jane. Taught me how to navigate by them too. I was really really bad at it. Anything slighlty related to math and I'm just sucky at it."

"Navigate what?"

"Boats mostly. He used to fly planes, but they don't use sextants for them anymore. At least I don't think they do."

Howard hummed slightly in response and they both fell silent again.

"Do you like flying?"

"Yes."

"Is that common in your time?"

"Is what common?"

"Flying? Is it accessible for everyone?"

"It's expensive based on the location and distance you are going…but it's a really common way to travel. Did you really follow me up here to ask about travel in the 21st century?" asked Darcy thickly. She was feeling washed out and headachy. She was probably going to wake up tomorrow feeling drained and achy for the second day in a row now.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright."

She ignored the concerned tone and his slight hesitation in responding. Like he was unsure of the words and unused to uttering such a phrase. He still wasn't looking at her.

"I don't think things will ever be alright for me."


	9. Chapter 9

I don't know why people are so keen to put the details of their private life in public; they forget that invisibility is a superpower.

Banksy

If you don't want to have your private life splashed everywhere, why go to the restaurants and the places you know you're going to be photographed?

Marina and the Diamonds

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Darcy Lewis loved Facebook. Her hundreds of friends. Daily posts, shared memes, crazy hobos rockin' the abs, and the ability to 'stalk' people so easily. It was an excellent way to be connected and yet keep people at a distance.

She had been a waitress at this small bar and grill during college. Family run, that sort of thing. The owners weren't the greatest, kinda jerks really. But she had kept her mouth shut (well she still talked a fucking lot, but never really said much) and made her money and didn't look back after her shifts. One of her co-workers had gotten trashed one night and just lambasted the owners on Facebook.

She was fired.

And Darcy learned a very important second hand lesson about posting things on Facebook.

But the thing with Facebook and most of the internet in general was that there was so much fucking stuff posted every single minute of the day by so many selfie loving people, that 90% of what you posted didn't fucking matter to anyone but you.

It was always that 10% that got to you and could destroy your life.

After all, once it was on the internet, it was there forever.

Nothing could fuck up your life like social media in the 21st century.

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Peggy found Darcy in one of the small side gyms running around the track. Off to the side cranked up to the max was her portable radio blaring a top hits station, that Peggy found to be grating to listen to.

She waited a few minutes for Darcy to finish whatever lap requirement she had set for herself. She then turned down the radio as Darcy unwisely gulped down a glass of water.

"What now?" Darcy sounded exhausted and pissed off.

"Did you read the newspaper yesterday or today?"

"No."

"You and Howard made the news."

"That damn party I attended with him?"

Peggy nodded, before opening up the paper to a black and white photo somewhere in the middle of the pages and handing it over to Darcy.

The younger woman looked down at the photo. Peggy had seen Darcy in various states of nervousness and distress since she had magically appeared on their radar, but nothing like the way she looked at this instant. It was disturbing and she moved forward to grab Darcy's shoulder. The girl looked ready to collapse at any second.

"Darcy what is it? What's wrong?"

"Darcy? Darcy? I'm pretty damn sure that by this point my name's Maria. Maria fucking Carbonell." Darcy snarled at Peggy before pushing Peggy's hand off her shoulder and fleeing the exercise room.

Peggy just stood there confused, next to the radio that was usually glued to the girl's side.

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Darcy, like any good political science student, had been to Washington, D.C. several times. She had visited just about every museum in the city, some more than once. After meeting the Black Widow and Hawkeye a few times not to mention Phil Coulson, she had basically camped out in the International Spy Museum for a week while Jane was doing some lecture at a different more sciency museum. Clint had joined her at one point and helpfully pointed out everything that was wrong in the museum. They had managed to sneak in booze and make it a drinking game. Good times.

Anyway the point was this. Howard Stark was in like, half of D.C.'s museums if not more. Even the art museums had little plaques next to some famous works of art that stated they were on loan from the Stark Family collection.

Which meant that at some point, Maria Stark had been important enough to be mentioned and featured beside her husband. Darcy hadn't seen the exhibit herself, but Maria Stark had once been a feature in an exhibit that showcased famous and influential American women.

The point was this. Darcy currently held a crumpled and slightly tearstained newspaper. It featured a photo now two days old at most. It was a photo Darcy had first seen faded and behind glass about three years ago. A copy that had seen much better days than the increasingly soggy one she clutched in her own hands. A smiling, giggling, (now Darcy realized smashed out of her mind on expensive champagne) young Maria Carbonell hanging off the arm of infamous Howard Stark, playboy and inventor. The exhibit also housed, now that she was wracking her brains trying to remember, information on when the two had wed.

She thought, but honestly could not be certain that the photo had been taken about a year before Howard and Maria's controversial and scandalous marriage began. She remembered some statements about the vast age difference. Concerned statements from some of Stark's 'peers' about gold diggers and how Howard was letting some broad turn his head…

Up to this point Darcy had hope that Maria wasn't her. But that photo was pretty damning evidence that she didn't make it back to her own time.

Well screw that.

Well ok, she probably couldn't do much about that and she probably should start trying to remember every single detail she could vaguely remember from the museums.

Or not. Ignorance, at this point would certainly be blissful.

She missed Jane.

She missed Jane's lab.

She missed her StarkPlayer and its thousands of slightly illegally downloaded songs.

She missed Thor with his cheerful smiles and loud exuberant manner.

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It was several hours later, after normal working hours at the SHIELD base when someone knocked on her door.

Darcy opened it to see Peggy holding up her portable radio that she had left behind in the gym.

"I thought you might want this back. I also thought you might want this too." Peggy held up a bag with a half-gallon of ice-cream in it in her other hand.

Darcy had to hold back another wave of tears that threatened to well up even after crying on and off most of the last two days.

"While I'm unfortunately more than capable of inhaling that ice-cream all by myself. Do you wanna stick around and split it with me?"

"I was indeed hoping for that outcome." Peggy held up two spoons that spoke largely about her strategic future planning.


	10. Chapter 10

Working at the growing S.H.I.E.L.D. branch in New York City wasn't nearly as exciting as Darcy would have hoped. She was starting to think that history textbooks made history a lot more interesting than it really was. The day to day grind of life was kinda boring without Netflix to kill a few hours each night. She mostly filed paperwork. A tedious job at the best of times, but far worse without the future convenience of laptops and internet. But she had to admit that is was better than doing next to nothing at the larger base she had been first brought to. When she wasn't filing paperwork she was slowly integrating herself into some of New York City's rich and famous' social circles courtesy of her ties to Howard Stark. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't trust any of those rich sons of bitches.

She wasn't really enjoying it to say the least. But at least she got to eat at some swanky restaurants.

It didn't help that Howard Stark had been off on some 'business trip' for the last two months.

But it wasn't all bad, just lonely.

The good part was she had a slight bit of freedom to explore on her unofficial days off. She had a feeling she was being sporadically tailed and reported on, but overall it seemed that Agent Carter was coming around to the idea of trusting her on her own.

And she had her own apartment. Well, room to be exact. Like the world's tiny tiniest studio apartment walkup. Her legs had never looked better after all this walking and training. Naturally, when she wined and dined with socialites she omitted the part where she lived alone in a cramped apartment. It might ruin their shiny scandalous image of her as Howard's latest fling. She'd be scandalous in a whole new, non-approved way.

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Shit that hurt like a mother fucker was the slightly coherent thought that raced through Darcy's brain as she hit the ground as fast as she could. Glass and metal raining down around her and the other passengers. Her arm was on fire from where she had been hit and she was going to have some nasty bruises from when she had slammed down on the car floor. Shit! That was blood. And not just her blood. But still some of it was definitely her blood. What the fuck was going on?

In between the cries for help, swearing, and moaning a baby started to wail. And wail. And if the poor child had a mother tending to him five minutes ago, Darcy had a feeling he no longer did.

There was little she could do though. Glass and twisted metal littered the floor in front of her face. Everything had gone dark. The only lights came from the glow of still lit cigarettes. Her arm was bleeding and she could hear more loud booming noises going off further down the subway line. She tugged her scarf free from her hair and pressed it to where she was bleeding. She could really fucking use a fucking cellphone and some emergency personal right about now.

Darcy was in the process of inching up off the ground to better assess the situation, like the agent she really did not want to be would, when the car rocked again knocking her back down.

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.

It was to the muffled sounds of nurses giving orders and the beeping of the machine by her bed that Darcy woke up hearing.

"Hello?" Darcy tried to call out but it came out all raspy and her throat was sore. Luckily or coincidently, a nurse pulled aside her curtain just moments later.

"Miss Carbonell, it's good to see you awake. You must be parched. Small sips." The nurse instructed as she held a small cup up to Darcy's mouth. Darcy had to squash the impulse to down the whole cup at once. She was really thirsty.

"Better?" asked the nurse after she had taken several sips.

"Um, yeah?" Darcy managed to answer.

"More water?"

Darcy nodded in agreement. Just that small movement made her head hurt.

Once the nurse was assured that Darcy could handle holding the cup by herself and wasn't going to pass out in front of her, she got up and left to attend to other patients.

.

.

.

"Maria."

"huhushuwha?" came Darcy's brilliant reply.

"Agent Carbonell."

"Huh?" Darcy mumbled as she fumbled around for her glasses only to have them handed to her.

"How are you feeling, Maria?"

Darcy got her glasses on, ignored the smudged fingerprints on the lens with difficulty, and forced herself to sit up in the bed a little bit higher.

"My arm and head hurt."

"Well, I'm not a medical professional, but being caught in a bombing sometimes has that result. You are very lucky to be alive right now. You lost a substantial amount of blood." Said Peggy as she handed Darcy a glass of water, before pulling a chair up next to the hospital bed.

Darcy watched as she settled herself on the hospital chair and pulled out a pen and pad to take notes.

"I'm going to need you to tell me everything that you remember up till now. Let's start begin with you leaving your apartment that morning, unless you can think of a better place to begin?"

Darcy took a sip of the water to clear her throat and try and collect her thoughts, she didn't even know what day it was currently. Or even how long she had been in the hospital.

"Um, I don't remember much, but is the baby ok? The one I could hear crying in the same car as me?" she focused her attention back on her glass of water, missing the quick look of horror that had flashed over Peggy's face. Darcy's throat hurt still, she must have inhaled a lot of dust, smoke, and grime from the subway.

"I'll look over the hospital and the witness statements and see if I can find out after you give your statement. If that is acceptable?" Peggy asked softly as she reached out to awkwardly pat Darcy's non-wounded arm.

"Yeah, thanks."

.

.

.

.

Morse code. It was almost old fashioned at this point and slightly charming, a throwback from serving in the War together all those years ago. Peggy usually left him some sort of message, usually a demand he actually fill out his paperwork on time and correctly before leaving on his next trip. Followed by the occasional joke or anecdote. It was a nice little reminder that someone gave a damn about him out there. Even if they showed it by making tediously long coded messages.

So when he when he was summoned to his makeshift office on the ship and told that Agent Carter was on the radio for him, he was guessing it wasn't good news.


	11. Chapter 11

0o0o0

I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.

-Robert Fulghum

Love is a force more formidable than any other. It is invisible - it cannot be seen or measured, yet it is powerful enough to transform you in a moment, and offer you more joy than any material possession could.

-Barbara de Angelis

.

.

.

.

The reports following the attack-at least the ones Darcy received- stated that the attack was of terrorism on United States soil, and had nothing specifically to do with S.H.I.E.L.D. Other than the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. had a hand in preventing these sort of situations on occasion. Except this one, apparently. They were probably getting into a nice little argument with other letter agencies as to whose job it was to prevent this situation. Or they started it themselves. That was always the scary alternative option.

So yeah, it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Story of her fucking life at this point.

At least that's what Peggy said, and Darcy believed her about ninety percent of the time these days.

Howard was still off on his trip, but clearly had received word of her situation. She had woken up one morning in the hospital to an adorably awkward Edwin Jarvis who came bearing flowers and one of Howard's published technical papers. Edwin claimed that Howard had wanted her to have some 'light reading' while she was recovering. Edwin-clearly not on Howard's behalf-also snuck her some chocolate he said his wife was fond of.

And she thought Jane's papers were hard to follow. Howard had to be worse. The two of them in one room would get on like wildfire. Both were that nice shade of genius/batshit crazy. But at least it wasn't one size fits all one night stands diamond jewelry.

.

.

.

It was another three weeks after she left the hospital and was allowed to stay in her apartment by herself that Howard finally came back into town. She didn't know how long he had been in town but having him show up at her door at 3 in the morning smelling of booze and probably something that included jet fuel or gasoline was not what she was expecting at all.

"Lew-yis." He knocked on the door and called in a loud voice.

Darcy rolled her eyes from her bed, but got up quickly to avoid having to explain to her neighbors why one of New York's best and brightest was drunkenly banging on her door in the early morning hours.

"Did you seriously just slur my name?" she asked once she jerked the door open to see Howard leaning against the door frame. His hand raised to knock again.

"I am incredibly drunk, Lewis. Car-bon-ell had too many syllables." He raised up a half empty bottle of scotch. Darcy was almost a hundred percent certain that it wasn't his first bottle. As she looked closer she noticed he was wearing something similar to a wife beater with lots of grease stains on it. Could he not afford rags, for fucks' sake? He was also wearing what looked like incredibly well tailored and expensive dress pants. The idea of those pants being ruined in a garage or in the name of science made her flinch. Talk about wasting money.

"You can say syllables, but not Lewis?" She asked as she tugged him quickly into her apartment.

"I'm a man of many talents. Thanks for inviting me over." He said as he took in the small room with a disgruntled look.

"I didn't invite you over." She snapped as she closed the door behind him. "And it's three in the morning. I'm tired, you're drunk, so can you just tell me what you want. Or why you thought it would be a fantastic idea to bang on my door at this time of the morning? Or what is the meaning of Life the Universe and Everything? "

"Alcohol?"

"What?"

"I'd say the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything is alcohol. Or science. Or scientifically made alcohol." Howard brought the bottle to his lips and took a long sip. When he was done he held the bottle out to Darcy. She took it, but mostly as a precaution against him drinking more.

"Uh huh"

Without the bottle to entertain him, Howard seemed to think it was acceptable to wander around her flat and poke at her meagre belongings with disinterest. Since she didn't own much and she'd probably do the same if she was drunk and she really didn't give a shit to be honest, she let him meander around the small room. This kept his attention for less than two minutes before he made his way over to her bed. Finally he plopped down on the edge of her messy but still warm and cozy cocoon of blankets and mattress.

"How's the arm?" Howard asked after a few moments of playing 'shifty eye contact and awkward silences'. "And the rest of your body?" he continued as he made a vague up and down hand movement in her direction.

"It's going to be scarred. My arm that is. Probably. My throat's feeling better finally. First week or two there in the hospital I was really worried about it."

"Peggy contacted me as soon as she could after it happened."

"Ok…? That was nice of her? I guess?"

"I wanted to get back here sooner. To see you. But things happened."

Darcy stood there confused. It was way too early in the morning for these types of conversations. She couldn't quite seem to follow the exact track Howard was going with here.

"I didn't expect you to come back? For me that is? I mean you live here and work here so I'd assumed you'd you know come back for shit like that but. Um, you were off doing whatever the hell it was you were doing. Business I guess. Do you always randomly drop everything and come back for hospitalized employees?"

Howard just blinked at her in a way that could only be described as stupidly.

"I tend to go to extreme lengths for the few I consider my friends, Lewis."

Now it was Darcy's turn to blink stupidly.

"I'm your friend?"

"Yes?" he answered.

"You seem unsure." Stated Darcy.

"Well I've been informed by people much better at this than I, that friendship is a two way street, and tends to need two people to actually meet the definition in the broadest sense.

"Oh. Right. Because millionaires always make friends with women twenty years younger than them." Darcy thought for a second about what she had just said. "Scratch that. Millionaires always 'make friends with women twenty years younger than them.' Especially when they are good looking. And easy. Can I have some of this scotch?" anything to shut herself up.

"It's not like that. And yes, help yourself…" she had already taken a too large swig, and her face was scrunched up in an effort to swallow.

"Right, I'm supposed to believe that." Darcy replied once she had managed to get the drink down.

Deciding that more booze was not in the cards for herself this morning and she needed any excuse to avoid Howard's searching gaze, she moved over to the small sink and poured them both cups of water.

"I know it's not an ideal situation by any means. You technically are my employee. And you probably feel like you are entirely in over your head. And yes, if you continue to spend time with me in public people will say absolutely disgusting things about you. They won't give a shit if what they say is true or not. Even if the company we were keeping was completely platonic."

Darcy handed him one of the cups of water and sat down on the bed next to him. They sat side by side in silence again.

"So this friendship of ours is completely platonic then?"

"This friendship is literally anything you want it to be Darcy."

"Anything?"

"Yes."


	12. Chapter 12

"Howard"

The man in question was sprawled out over more than half of Darcy's small bed. He was also muttering something unintelligible into her pillow. But whatever it was she probably was not happy to hear him say it. She assumed anyway.

"Howard!" this time she poked the billionaire in the side. When he didn't move she did again. Harder.

Having a drunk or possibly at this point hung over Howard Stark taking over her bed the mid-morning after what had to be hands down the most life changing conversation (provided he still remembered it now) was not her idea of fun. At least she wasn't going to be bitched at at work for not coming in-Howard could handle that mess for her. She would happily play the 'Stark's my boss (sort of), make him face Peggy at work card'.

"Howard." This time when she poked him in the side, he swatted at her hand and rolled over to face her.

He squinted up at her, wincing at the light coming in from the window across the room.

"Where you planning on going into work today?" asked Darcy now that she finally had some semblance of his attention.

"Where'd you sleep last night?" asked Howard groggily as he took in his position on the bed, Darcy being showered and dressed, and the bottle of scotch sitting on nightstand next to the bed.

"Not in bed with you."

"I gathered as much." He groaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"I just stayed up and read another James Bond novel once you passed out on my pillows. I want you have those cleaned. I think you drooled all over them."

"Right, I can do that. Well, hire someone to do that."

.

.

.

"Jarvis stopped by. He brought you a change of clothes, a shaving kit, a stack of files for work or something, and then he gave you a 'look'." She finger quoted the last words.

"Then he offered to drive me to work so I wouldn't be late. Instead I asked him to call Peggy for me and let the office know I was with you for the day. Just in case you weren't capable of being a functioning human being once you woke up.

Having known his Butler for years, Howard had a good idea of how the British man had been glaring at him disapprovingly when he stopped by.

"Let me get dressed. I'll take you out to lunch and we can discuss last night? Or this morning? That conversation we had."

Darcy stared at him, surprised he even mentioned any part of the last few hours.

"I did actually have a conversation with you right? I didn't drunkenly imagine all of that, platonic friendship, stuff?"

"You did use the word 'platonic' last night." Darcy, now that she was positive that Howard was awake and not taking over her bed again, moved to sit down next to him on it. "You also might want to take a shower, before we leave for lunch, ok?"

.

.

.

After a good hour of listening to Howard complain about slumming it in her small bathroom shower stall (someone had used all the hot water before waking him up), trying to shave by the miniscule sink and mirror (that mustache, took a lot of work to maintain (Darcy had a fleeting memory of once thinking Tony Stark must have a crew of hairstylists on

hand for his)), and finally seeing him smartly dressed, they were ready to go.

Howard, now back to calling her Carbonell like it was the most natural thing in the world despite calling her Darcy a few hours ago, escorted her out to another flashy sports car. Or what she assumed counted as a sports car in the 60's. It wasn't one she recognized on sight. She should probably learn to look more impressed by this stuff.

.

.

.

.

Lunch turned out to be a small Jewish deli hidden away in a section of the city that Darcy hadn't explored yet. Based on the cars and people walking about, it wasn't a section of the city that wasn't wealthy by any means, but it looked like it was improving. Slowly. Possibly.

Darcy was starting to think she was never going to understand any of Howard's actions. One minute he's complaining about her tiny ass apartment and the next he's dragging her to equally high class places. For lunch.

"Afternoon Aviva."

And he knew the woman working the counter by name.

"Stark, what are you doing back in this side of town? Read in the papers you bought yourself some land out in California."

"Oh that's strictly businesses, now." Howard replied with a grin, a wide showman-gesture with his hands, and a wink at the woman who appeared to be ten years older than him.

"Think I could ever abandon this paradise?"

Aviva, or at least that's what Howard had called her, rolled her eyes at his response. Then she gave a once over to Darcy who was standing next to Howard feeling increasingly fed up with the entire day. It was an appraising look, and it gave Darcy a feeling that most people were going to jump to two conclusions if she spent time with Howard in public.

Ignoring Darcy, Aviva asked Howard something quickly and in a language she didn't recognize. Howard answered her back and with a tone that sounded like he wasn't having any part of that conversation.

Instead he turned to introduce Darcy to the woman.

"Aviva, meet Maria Collins Carbonell. Maria, Aviva. I'll have the number seven this time. Thanks. Maria?"

Darcy blinked at the turn of events, she had half expected the tense conversation to go on a lot longer than it had. "Hi, um number eleven please." She ordered as she took a quick second to look over the options posted above the deli counter. "Thank you."

Howard led her to the back of the deli and into a booth that had a clear view of all the doors from where he took a seat. Darcy sat across from him.

"Friend of yours?" she asked in a low voice, jerking her head back towards Aviva.

"Not really, my mother was friends with her mother when I was growing up. We ran into each other in the neighborhood and when mother could successfully drag me off to the synagogue. It didn't happen much once I became faster than her, I had much better things to waste my time on than religious services."

Darcy didn't even know how to begin to respond to him, and she was thankful he continued to talk.

"But the food is good and no one bothers me here- most of the time at least- Anna Jarvis- Have you met her yet? Her cooking's better, but she always gives me a harder time."

"Probably because you make her husband do the most ridiculous shit. I'd kinda want to make you pay for some of the things Edwin's had to do if I was her."

"There's more to the story, but it's not one I want to even remotely begin sharing in public, Carbonell."

They both lapsed into silence when Aviva came out bearing two plates of sandwiches that looked fantastic.

Once she dropped them off and moved far enough away for them not to be overheard, Howard threw Darcy for another loop.

"Are we going to talk about this morning?" he asked after he had taken a few bites of his sandwich.

"Which part of this morning do you want to discuss?" she took a few bites of her own meal. She had to admit it was pretty damn good.

"The part that didn't involve me passing out on your bed in a rather embarrassing fashion."

"Ok, let's make this simple. What do you want from me Howard?"

"A relationship."

"A relationship."

"Yes, but seeing as I have never actually been in one, I can't really tell you what that involves. Apparently, it involves seeing a lot of that person and not sleeping with other women. And some vague talk about what we want from the future or something. How's the food."

"S'good." She answered a little shocked at his forthright answer. Her mind was racing with every single TV show, book, and history lesson she had ever seen and heard over the years. Each one of them was reminding her of how exactly Howard and Maria Stark lived out their days.

"I think we need to talk more about me and how I got here, before we go further with this 'relationship' talk."

Howard, who had been looking tired, slightly hung over, and almost relaxed, tensed up at her statement.

"We'll finish lunch and then head back to my private lab then? You alright with talking there?"

"Anyplace with good security."

"My lab will work."


	13. Chapter 13

'Cause I got your picture  
I'm coming with you  
Dear Maria, count me in  
There's a story at the bottom of this bottle  
And I'm the pen  
-All Time Low

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.

Darcy on her one booze filled trip to Casa de Stark, had only had the pleasure of seeing a few rooms. Howard's lab or workshop or secret lair, what ever you wanted to call it, was on a whole 'nother level. Literally, he had it built underneath his New York mansion, and she was sure that 90% of the security measures in place wouldn't hit the public sector for another ten to fifteen years. She asked for a secure to talk and she got exactly what she wanted.

"Want a tour?" he asked gesturing widely.

"Peggy's not going to arrest me for espionage after you show me around right?"

"She's starting to trust you, and I already do. So would you like a tour?" asked Howard as he flipped some switches and started to turn on some lights.  
Darcy stood in the door way and let him set everything up without her getting into the way.

"I may as well, if this conversation goes right, you'll never talk to me again, hopefully." Her voice started to crack with emotion in a way she really did not appreciate in the slightest bit.

"You know if you just tell me to get the fuck out of your life, outside of work of course, I will." Said Howard as he leaned back against a draft table, hands fiddling with a tool, to face her.

"The main problem is I don't think I want you to get out of my life. But the future fucking terrifies me. And I really just want to go home. To Jane, to my piles of student loans, to the internet, and to the fucking 21st century. This isn't my home Howard. I'm kinda a drifter. Time travel doesn't really seem like the worst experience ever. But I feel like the walls are closing in on me each and every new day I wake up in this century. Back home I've switched majors and moved so many times I can't count….but here I'm Maria Collins Carbonell and I know what happens next in history."

Howard stared at her during her outburst and just let her talk. He had been angling for these details for months now and he was fairly certain he wasn't going to like everything he was going to hear.

"So Howard I'm going to ask you this. You said you wanted a relationship with me. I need to know right now, before I go farther with this what you mean by that."

"I'd marry you if I didn't think you were looking for an escape route every chance you could. Hell, screw that, I'll marry you if you want."

"Marry me?" she scoffed hysterically. "You want to marry me?"

"Well I admit it's a far better set up for me than it is for you-since you don't seem to give damn about my money-and you're young, no one would blame me in the slightest for marrying a dame that looked like you. Even if you're young enough to be my daughter."

She was staring at him and he couldn't tell if she was pissed off or having a panic attack at his words. So he kept talking trying to fix it all.

"But people also don't know what you look like sitting in holding cell waiting to find out if you even have a future. They haven't seen you adjust to a whole new time and set of social rules that don't suit you in the slightest. You're smart. You make me laugh. You're not completely clueless at science, but damn are you bad at math. You do have very nice legs and-" he moved to indicate other parts of her body and she cut in before he could finish.

"I swear Howard if you…"

"My point is Darcy, I think we could make it work. I want to try and make it work. And I've never remotely, in the slightest bit, ever thought that about a woman before. So I guess all it really comes down to is what do you think?"

"Do you want kids?" she blurted out before she had a chance to think over what he had just said.

"When someone asks me that question I'm usually hoping the girl isn't pregnant to be honest. As I stated before I've never considered anything permanent with a woman before. However, I do have a successful company and I'd prefer to leave it behind to my progeny verses someone else's." Howard moved away from the draft table and pulled over a stool. He motioned for her to take a seat.

"You want a drink before we discuss this further?" he asked once she was perched on the stool.

"Whiskey, thanks."

He poured them both drinks, handed one to her and then pulled up a stool for himself.

"Tony Stark, huh?"

Darcy let out a shaky breath and laughed nervously.

"You really don't forget anything do you?"

"Not when the so called time-traveler claims he's my son, no."

"I don't want children. I don't think I've ever wanted children, Howard. Do you know how many fights I've had with my mother on this topic? I've never liked them much. They're cute as long as you can give them back to their owners-"

"You mean parents, right?" Howard asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, those people crazy enough to want and have kids-parents, as you say." She poured herself a generous second helping of whiskey.

"I guess with the concept of time travel this does bring up some minor problems. After all, we don't know how time travel actually works in your case. I've been researching it as much as I can and I think I've found some links, but it's going to take years of studying and research as of right now."

"So you're saying you don't think I'll be getting back to the land of text messaging and netflix and Taylor Swift songs anytime soon."

"If I knew what those three things were, I'd probably have to agree with you." He took the bottle from her and topped off his own. "I'm going to find a way to get you back."

"No you're not Howard."

"I will." The way he said, it reminded Darcy forcibly of Jane staring up into the sky night after night sciencing to get Thor-and the last vestiges of her credibility in the scientific community-back. He had the same crazy certainty in his eyes that things would work out and he'd tear apart time and space to figure it out.

She wanted to tell him to fuck off. To not give her slightest bit of hope that he would pull it off. But she couldn't seem to bring herself to say the words. Instead she was about to pull them both back to the topic at hand when Howard started talking again.

"Look, what I'm about to say isn't a way to pressure you or make you feel like this is your only course of action. But I highly doubt I'm going to meet another woman that looks like you, that I can tolerate, and would even consider marrying. It's not going to happen."

Darcy refused to meet his eyes and downed the rest of the drink in her hand.

"Howard and Maria Stark die sometime in the early nineties. That's definitely you. And probably me. And I can't even remember the exact date." God she hated life right now-and she was starting to fucking cry too. "I can't stop thinking about how I know when I'm going to die. I don't want to fucking die, Howard!"

"Hey, come here. C'mere." In a matter of seconds Howard was by her side and pulling her close and very very awkwardly patting her on the back as she sobbed into his suit jacket.

.

This was the second time she was waking up hungover and feeling lost in this house. At least this time she recognized the location and had a sneaking suspicion that as soon as she was able to haul her ass out of bed and make it downstairs, she'd be able to score fried hashbrowns with ketchup from Jarvis.

One cold shower to make her feel alive, another hour face down in one of the most comfortable beds she's ever slept on, and Darcy is finally ready to face the music downstairs.  
The kitchen is exactly how she remembered it from her first time, but instead of Jarvis glowering over having to kick out Howard's girl du jour out, there's a dark haired woman carving a turkey up for sandwiches behind the counter.

"Hello, you must be Maria, Edwin's told me all about you." And thankfully the woman must be used to surly morning people with hangovers since she spoke in a low voice and quickly moved to pour Darcy a glass of water. She then moved to the stove and grabbed a heated plate that was loaded up with hashbrowns and put it in front of Darcy.

"My name's Anna and if there is anything else I can get for you, Miss Carbonell just let me know."

Darcy nodded. Manfully held back the impulse to burst into tears again (she had a feeling that was all she really did last night) and dug into her plate of food. They were really good hashbrowns. When she finally inhaled the last few bites, she pushed her plate aside and fiddled with her water glass. It was strange sitting around being waited on in what was essentially someone's home.

"Sorry I wasn't very friendly before. It's nice to meet you. Edwin talks about you all the time when I see him. It's adorable really."

Darcy's comment made Anna smile and blush lightly. Anna and Edwin were looking like they were one of those perfect adorable couples that just make you sick to watch.

"Is Howard around?"

"He said to tell you he had to drive over to one of the SI factories. He'll be back this evening. Mr. Stark said you were more than welcome to stay as long as you wish."

"Thanks, I'm just going to go back upstairs for a while."

"Of course, Miss. Carbonell."

"Could you just call me Maria? If you don't mind?"

"I can do that, Maria."

"Thanks."


	14. Chapter 14

We love films because they makes us feel something. They speak to our desires, which are never small. They allow us to escape and to dream and to gaze into the eyes that are impossibly beautiful and huge. They fill us with longing. But also. they tell us to remember; they remind us of life. Remember, they say, how much it hurts to have your heart broken. ? Nina LaCour, Everything Leads to You One the benefits of dating and she used that term so very loosely, an incredibly rich and busy man was that he was always out of town on business. One of the downsides of dating and incredibly rich and busy man was that he could afford to bring her where ever he went.  
That s how after three days of hiding in her apartment and skipping work (Peggy hadn t stopped by demanding to know why she wasn t in the office, so she had a feeling Howard had filed for leave time for her) Howard showed up at her door and told her to pack her best clothes.  
Since she felt pretty shitty about avoiding him after everything she had told him she didn t argue.  
So that s how Darcy found herself on a private airplane being flown-somewhere-she wasn t sure where, piloted by Howard himself. But there was a well-stocked bar, a stewardess that seemed to be able to create five star meals out of thin air, and a pile of the latest best-selling novels set up just for her.  
There were far worse places to have a quarter life crisis and contemplate your impending-though long term-death. .

.  
What are we doing here anyway? Darcy asked as she stood on one foot, attempting to put her other heel on.  
Business meeting, for me. You have several options, of course. You can come with me-as my date, as a my co-worker, or my fianc . You can also take my bank card, go have fun and try and forget I exist for a few hours. You know, you should maybe try and romance me a little more if you expect me to marry you anytime soon. You haven t said yes yet. You haven t kissed me, bought me a ring, or proposed in a nice way yet. Howard laughed and grabbed her hands from where she was digging around in her purse. He sank down to one knee and let one of her hands go to try and fumble around in his pocket- a task he should have done before kneeling.  
He finally managed to extract something small, round, and slightly greasy.  
Darcy Lewis, will you marry me? Everything I can offer you, you don t really want or need. But whaddaya going to do? it was one of the first times Darcy could hear Howard s strong New York accent coming through. He seemed to have learned how to hide it for business years ago.  
He took the nut he had finally gotten out of his pocket and put it into her hand. She was going to need a gallon of GoJo orange cleaner to get the grease stains off at this rate. (She had been disgustingly homesick at the sight of the bright orange five gallon bottle stowed on a shelf in Howard s lab. It made her miss Jane and home more than ever).  
Wow, it s what I ve always dreamed of. She deadpanned as she took the nut from him. Her hand shook slightly as she brought it up to eye level to examine it. But Howard was smirking and she was finding that she could barely contain her own laughter.  
All my hypothetical girlfriends will be soooo jealous when I show this bad boy off. It was too small for her ring finger so she slipped it onto her pinkie, she honestly had no idea if it was even the right hand.  
So I m assuming your answer is yes? Because if it s no I need that nut back, it belongs to one of the radios on the plane. I m willing to sacrifice some high end electronics for my future-wife, but that s about it. Darcy rolled her eyes and snarked back.  
That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me, Howard. The answer is yes. I will marry you. She tried to get the words out with a straight face, but she started laughing halfway through her answer. She only sounded slightly desperate-but mostly amused this time.  
Howard got back up to his feet and pulled her close, careful to not get grease on either one of their outfits. I ll buy you an actual engagement ring when we get back to New York. I wasn t really worried about that-I figured you d be able to afford a second ring. But, FYI, this one she held up the nut to Howard s face is mine. You re going to have to use something else to fix your radio. Is that right, Lewis? Maybe I can find a way to- before he could move in closer and finish his sentence, the phone located beside the bed started to ring.  
Damn-I really do have to leave for this business meeting. Can I have your bank card and pretend you don t exist and still be your fianc ? I m pretty certain that s how trophy wives all around the world do it. Here. He pressed an envelope into her hand. I ll join you for dinner tonight? Sounds nice-now go. Make lots of money-I don t think I want to experience the and for poorer side of our future vows. .

.  
Monaco-since that was where Howard was apparently having a business meeting-had some damn fine restaurants in Darcy s opinion. And some damn fine views. Maybe she would use the money that Howard had given her, buy herself a bathing suit and try and relax for a few hours. There had to be a beach or a pool around her somewhere that she could take full advantage of before meeting Howard back at the hotel for dinner.  
Or she could just wander around on the small streets and admire the buildings and outfits of the people walking by.  
It was nice and she d be crazy to say no to a free mini-vacation-but this- this lifestyle was so beyond what she had ever imagined. .

.  
Dinner was an awkward affair.  
It might have just been the most awkward succession of moments ever.  
Darcy could only imagine what it looked like to an outside viewer. .

.  
Scene one (meet the characters): The newly engaged couple. Played by Howard Stark (the charming, dangerous, eccentric, pilot, genius millionaire, that likes to pretend he is the American answer to James Bond) and Darcy Lewis (the won t-ever-be-able-to-pay-back-my-student-loans-on-this-salary-Jane-former-intern-extraordinaire, the maker of playlists for all occasions, the lightning-sister of Thor, and the reluctant time traveler) Note the age differences, everyone else certainly does.  
Scene two: the expensive restaurant. Played by a real restaurant that Darcy could not properly pronounce after three times of listening to Howard repeat it.  
Scene three: the perfectly set dinner table. Who really needs that many forks and spoons and what was Darcy supposed to do with them? Was this going to become a thing? Dinners where she was completely out of her element.  
Scene four: small talk. It s hard to talk about work or personal life when both are considered highly covert. How was your day. Fine, thank you, I watched rich people go shopping. And yours? It was busy. Lots of meetings. (The I made more money than those suckers can imagine off this deal was implied as was I m actually spying for S.H.I.E.L.D. right now. )  
Scene five: avoid breaking down in public due to stress and homesickness. Damn, she never cried this much back in the 21st century.  
Scene six: realize on the way out of the restaurant, that she just agreed to marry this man just hours before. Panic some more.  
Scene seven: For a first kiss it was pretty damn nice.


	15. Chapter 15

If you choose bad companions, no one will believe that you are anything but bad yourself. ? Aesop, Aesop's Fables .

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It appears that congratulations are in order, Sir? Some poor soul is finally attempting to make an honest man out of you? asked Jarvis as he stood looking down over the strewn parts of what must have been a car or plane engine, Howard s lunch in hand.  
Well yes, but you didn t have to say it in that tone of voice. I thought you liked Maria. Snapped back Howard, his voice echoing from where it was hidden behind some machinery.  
I do like Maria, I m under the impression that that young lady is far too good for you. However did you manage to convince her that marriage was in the cards? I do hope you are not leading her on. The butler frowned as he placed the food down in an open spot on one of the work tables.  
I m not leading her on, J. He banged sharply on the side of the machine and avoided Jarvis s piercing glare.  
With all respect, Sir. I find that hard to believe. Howard had known Edwin Jarvis for years now and rarely had the man opposed him straight to his face. He could think of two other times in his life where it had happened. Oh, sure Jarvis was known for giving his opinion, but he usually left Howard to fuck things up however he wanted to and grumbled as he had to clean up the messes.  
What s the issue here? She seems like a nice up standing girl that might be in over her head. I do not know what exactly is going on in her life, but having her name dragged through the mud in connection to yours, is not something she needs if you are not willing to support her through it. That statement was enough for Howard to give up on whatever he was fiddling with and move out in the open to face Jarvis.  
May I ask you a question? You're asking for permission? It s about Anna. And when you first met her. And how you were willing to destroy your career and your freedom for her after knowing her for such a short amount of time. What exactly do you wish to ask me about that situation? You were there for it after all, for which I must be quite thankful. You barely knew her. You stole and forged documents for a girl you barely knew. What the fucking hell were you thinking? At the time it was entirely worth the risk, Sir. Replied Jarvis a touch defensively.  
And what if I hadn t been around to clean it all up for you? Had Anna been allowed to leave Hungary and start a new life elsewhere, hopefully finding happiness, it still would have been worth it. And what if Anna hadn t made it out of Hungary, what if you had gone to jail, and she was just another Jew that was never seen or heard from again? Some people are worth risking everything for, even if you know it s all in vain. Better to have a go at it than not, right Sir? You ve never taken the easy route in your life, either.  
How s this connected to the lovely young Miss Carbonell? Howard rubbed the bridge of his nose with one grease stained hand and sighed. It looked like whatever he had been working on was over for the day.  
Have a seat Jarvis, I got a hell of a story to tell you. I think it goes without saying that-this- Howard waved his hand between the two of them does not leave this room. .

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Despite their work environments and the seemingly inequalities of it, Edwin was the closest person outside of Peggy that could be called a friend-or even a best friend to Howard.  
Time travel. Jarvis looked incredulous at his own statement. Miss Carbonell is from the future? Yes, but I haven t made it to the really fucked up part yet, it gets better. Wait, I m gonna get myself another drink, anything for you? Jarvis shook his head no and settled back in his chair as Howard got up to fix himself a drink. Jarvis often wondered to himself how Howard functioned during Prohibition and then he decided he really didn t want to know about even more laws that Howard might have sidestepped over the years. All he knew was Howard s mansion had more mini-bars hidden around the place than the new gaming centers cropping up out in Las Vegas.  
Not only is she from the future, she works for this world famous astrophysicist, who basically changed the face of science as we know it. It was in her boss s lab that she got thrown back in time. Howard flopped back in his chair and continued his story.  
Time travel, I can accept that after working for you all these years. Strange events and people tend to gravitate towards you. That does not explain your actions towards her. In fact it makes your decision to ask her to marry you even more concerning. Jarvis leaned forward and stared at his boss. Howard avoided his gaze and focused on the drink in his hand instead.  
Jarvis, I- No. Sir, I am not finished. I have only been informed of the barest set of facts here but it sounds like Miss Carbonell needs a way home, not a husband that will get bored with her when the gloss of adventure fades with the struggles of day to day life in a marriage. Jarvis- Howard tried to cut in, but Jarvis wasn t having any of it.  
You better be bloody sure this is something you are willing to sacrifice for. I can barely tolerate the vapid, self absorbed leeches that parade through here, but I take marriage vows quite seriously and I will not tolerate nor work for a man that decides to destroy his own marriage. Sometimes Howard forgot that not only was Jarvis former military, but he had also spent months running around with Peggy. He usually hid that side under staunch britishness and manners.  
It s always nice to hear how highly you think of me Jarvis. Snapped Howard.  
Well? Am I wrong? I certainly hope for Miss Carbonell s sake that I am. Perhaps, you ll let me finish my story? Very well, but I think I would like that drink you offered. .

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When they both were settled with drinks, Howard s third at this point. Howard handed something over to Jarvis. Jarvis perched his drink precariously on the arm of his chair and used both hands to examine the device that Howard had given him.  
He had never seen anything quite like it. Some of Howard s equipment in the lab or in the office looked sleek and flashy, but nothing quite compared to this small hand held device.  
What is it? It s a mobile telephone. It s also a highly advanced computer. It can store pages upon pages of data, while playing music, a host of other things, and make phone calls. It belongs to Maria. We have nothing similar to this at this time? That would be correct, but while the technology is highly fascinating, it s not the reason I showed it to you. When Maria first arrived here S.H.I.E.L.D. confiscated all of her belongings. This cell phone as she calls it was among the items. I was able to open some of the folders or applications on the device. There I found a series of technical journal documents. Most were written by the woman Jane Foster-the scientist that Maria works for back in her time. However there were also a few articles written by a man named Anthony Edward Stark. Howard abandoned his chair at this point and moved to pick up some remains of what might have once been a radio. He wasn t the best at having conversations with people without something to fiddle with. He could do it for business meetings, but he was often moving around more and presenting new ideas. Not talking about how his life was quickly spiraling out of his control.  
Anthony Edward Stark? My son apparently. Your son? How old is he now? He s not born yet, you can just forget about winning that bet I know you and Peggy have running. I haven t knocked anyone up yet. That we know of. I haven t knocked any one up yet, can we please focus? Howard gave up on the radio remains and moved over towards Jarvis s chair, snatching the cell phone out of his hands as he passed by.  
So who is the mother? It better be Maria, since you just threatened me if I cheat on my wife. Jarvis sighed and broke his perfect butler image by running his hand over his face and then through his hair. It might have been the most disheveled Howard had ever seen him. I am not done with this conversation by any means, Sir. But I do believe I am going to have to call it a night. It has been quite the trip down the rabbit hole this evening, and I am sure it shall only get worse. You really have no idea. Edwin was half way out of the room when he turned back to his boss and friend.  
You think you can fix things for Miss Carbonell don t you? Weren t you the one that just told me some things were worth doing no matter how hopeless it might seem?


End file.
